


The Dread Wolf's Grace

by shinyeevee



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Love, and some oc's!, obviously, there is also
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6089851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyeevee/pseuds/shinyeevee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after the events at the Exalted Council, Marel Lavellan "retired" to Kirkwall to live a quiet life with a few friends.  Solas resorted to sending spies after her in case her health weakened or she found herself in trouble again.  Meanwhile, one of his office's attendants is hoping he would forget about Lavellan and recognize her true feelings.  With surprises in store for both the Dread Wolf and the last Inquisitor, there finally might be a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love and Infatuation

Laduma loved him more than anyone has ever loved anything.

Her heart pounded with adrenaline every morning as she shoved her boots on and rifled through her small closet for something she thought he’d like.  Laduma brushed through her thick hair and plaited it away from her face, buzzing with excitement.  Although her reflection was dismal at best - she had too small of a nose and sharp cheekbones, not to mention her ears stuck out too far - Laduma always tried to look better for him.  He once commented on her freckles and she stood in the sun every afternoon hoping to harbor more of them.

The maidens in the next room were already giggling as they rose out of bed a little later than everyone else.  Laduma ignored them as she looped a bulky key ring around her belt and closed her bedroom’s door behind her.

The small cottage where most of the staff lived was on the edge of the property, impeccably taken care of by the gardeners and carpenters that lived closer to the crumbling circle tower they turned into a base.  It was abandoned when the scouts found it, and now Laduma worked at the top of the spindly rotunda.  That was where she was reunited, every day, with the elf who stole her heart.

“Good morning,  _ Laduma _ ,” Siona sang behind her.  Laduma ignored the kitchen maid as she started through the grassy knoll towards the tower.  Although it was becoming rare for their leader to appear before noon, she still preferred bringing him breakfast.  Just in case.  “No answer?  Are you too excited to see your  _ soulmate _ ?”

That word.  Laduma reddened as soon as she heard it.

“I’m not his  _ soulmate _ .  I tend to his office,” Laduma snapped.

“Oh, I know.”  Siona grinned as she caught up with Laduma, her long hair tied in an intricate knot to keep away from her eyes.  Laduma clenched her jaw and ignored Siona’s pretty smile.  “His soulmate is that one girl.  The one we can’t talk about.”

“Shut up, Siona.”

“Think about how powerful she was compared to you.  You’re not even a mage!”  Siona giggled.  Laduma never had a laugh that sounded as infectious as Siona’s.  It was just another blow to her heart.  “I’m sorry if I’m being a bother, I just hope you stop daydreaming about someone you can’t have.  You should start thinking on a smaller scale - like the stable boy, perhaps.”

Laduma swallowed the acid in her throat.  “I told you to shut up.”

“You’re just being a silly girl.  You don’t even know the difference between love and infatuation.”  Siona huffed and reached up to tighten her braids.  “You know what love is?  When someone is willing to kill for you.  Not just protect you, but  _ kill _ for you.”

“That’s horrible,” Laduma snapped.  A vein in her temple was beginning to throb - it always happened when Siona opened her mouth.  “I would never ask someone to kill for me.”

Siona shrugged her thin shoulders.  “You don’t have to ask them.  Or else it would be infatuation.”

Laduma just held her tongue for the rest of the walk.  She knew Siona was just goading her on so she would be fussy for the rest of the day.  Siona never had an ulterior motive: she just liked watching things burn because she knew they could catch flame.

The tray of food was ready for Laduma to bring to the office.  Siona whipped an apron around her waist and tied it expertly as another kitchen maiden, Onevara, stood near the hearth to watch a teapot begin steaming.  As it whistled, Laduma leaned against a polished counter to wait for Siona to arrange cups and bowls on the tray.  “This is a waste of good tea,” she commented as Onevara tipped the pot over a ceramic one for transport.  “He doesn’t even  _ like  _ tea.  You know that, Laduma?  He doesn’t like tea!”

“Yes, he does,” Laduma defended.  She crossed her arms over her chest instinctively, as if Siona was aiming straight for her heart.  “I tend to the office, I should know what he likes!”

“Then you are  _ horrible  _ at your job, girl.”  Onevara poured crush tea leaves into a bowl and readied it next to the steaming plate of breakfast.  “Haven’t you noticed he will only have the water?”

Laduma’s cheeks burned as she slowly shook her head.  When the leader was eating, she just stared at the way his mouth moved or his nimble fingers tearing bread apart.  The details - his aversions or favorites - always escaped her when she was looking at him.  “Are you two finished?” Laduma asked wearily.  “Can I please just do my job?”

The maidens snickered as Onevara pushed the tray towards her and knocked the kitchen’s countertop with her knuckles.  “Order up.  Have fun with your lover today.”

_ They have no idea what they’re talking about _ , Laduma thought darkly as she made her way to the tower.  The maidens just liked to laugh and gossip, which suited them fine.  Laduma knew her heart.  That was all that mattered.

 

Laduma first saw Fen’Harel when her clan declared their allegiance to him.

She was poking the dismal-looking fire, hoping that one of the mages would come and light it for her.  The First, Rosha, was speaking to the stranger at the front of the campsite and Keeper Faron was planning their route in her tent.  Davhalla was the only mage unburdened by duties, resting against an aravel with her eyes closed.  Laduma squirmed as she attempted to gather the courage to wake her, but it didn’t come easily.

“Laduma, what are you doing?” One of the hunters whined as he glanced at the fire.  “It’s not even hot.  We need to cook this meat or it’ll go bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Laduma quickly said, reaching for more underbrush.  The hunter rolled his eyes as she cracked twigs apart and tossed them into the weak embers.  “I just don’t know how to light it myself…”

The hunter pointed at Davhalla.  “Go ask her, then?”

“She’s asleep.  It would be rude to bother her.”

“She’s not sleeping.  Davhalla!”  The hunter shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.  The mage stirred slightly, her dark eyes landing on Laduma.  The hunter took this as encouragement and waved Davhalla over.  “Laduma needs your help!”

Davhalla contemplated it shortly before closing her eyes again.

“ _ Fen’harel ver na _ .”  The hunter kneeled at the embers and picked up a stick to poke the fire back to life.  “It’s alright, Laduma.  It took me a while to do this, too.”

“Really?”

“No, just trying to make you feel better.”  The hunter smiled at her and pushed his shoulder against hers jokingly.  “Rosha isn’t doing anything important.  Rosha!”

Rosha turned from the makeshift gates of the camp to look at the campfire.  The stranger she was speaking to also glanced over curiously: his soft eyes landed on Laduma and she felt her heart leap into her throat.  “We need you to set things on fire!” The hunter called to her, pointing at the firepit.

The First said something to the stranger, who let himself smile.  Laduma’s eyes didn’t waver as she stared at him, her cheeks turning pink as the two walked through the gates and towards the firepit.  The hunter didn’t notice how flustered Laduma was as he stood up and nodded to the elf.  “I’m glad you made it,” he said.  To Laduma, the hunter added, “He was looking for elves when we crossed paths in the forest.  He’s a mage.”

_ Oh.   _ Laduma’s heart shriveled with disappointment.  She met mages outside of their clan before - they usually don’t take interest in elves who don’t associate with the Fade.  “I am Laduma,” she told the stranger weakly, running her hands over her chainmail.  “I am an apprentice to the Halla Keeper.”

The stranger didn’t look too impressed, but he politely acknowledged her with a smile.  To the hunter, he asked, “It took some time getting here.  I admit, I used to have companions with far better navigation skills.”

“What happened to them?”  Rosha intervened, her large eyes fastened on the stranger’s face.

“The same thing that happens to many adventurers.  We simply parted ways,” the elf explained calmly.  He didn’t seem troubled that Rosha interrupted his conversation, which soiled Laduma’s stomach.  Why did it seem every fascinating elf who came here always enjoyed the mages?   _ Because they’re pretty and they have magic _ , Laduma told herself darkly.   _ Two things you obviously lack _ .

Keeper Faron walked out of her tent then, curious to see why her First had abandoned her post at the front of the camp.  Faron was an elf taller than the others, her hair tightly braided along her skull and wrapped into a bun at the top of her head.  She carried her stave in her hand at all times, prepared for even the most abrupt attack on the clan.  “Rosha,  _ Ma’halla _ , what is all the fuss about?  Why is the fire put out?”

“Rosha didn’t light it yet,” the hunter said, before pointing at Laduma.  “She hasn’t learned how to keep a fire alive.”

Faron glanced at Laduma sitting on the ground.  Frowning, she said, “Why is a Halla Keeper in charge of lighting the fire?  Aren’t you supposed to be tending to the  _ halla _ ?”

“Dhavihal told me to do this instead.”  Laduma omitted the part where one of the halla, in a blaze of passion, kicked her in the thigh.  For being named as the future caretaker of the animals, they sure didn’t like her very much.

Faron pointed her stave at the fire, and in moments, it was alive again.  Laduma shrunk away from the terrific blaze, her cheeks deepening in color as Keeper Faron did her job for her.  “Now that this is settled, who are you?” Faron asked, turning to the stranger.  “You don’t bear clan crests, nor Vallaslin.  From the city, perhaps?”

“No, I am one of the People,” the stranger answered.

“And your business here?”

“To speak to you alone,” the stranger told her, his hands tucked behind his back.  Laduma noticed he didn’t have a stave on him - strange, considering the hunter said he was a mage.  “I have important news regarding the Dalish.  There will be a clan joining me shortly that will speak for me.”

Keeper Faron considered then before waving him to come with her.  “This way, to my tent.  Laduma - don’t touch that fire, please.  Rosha, with me.”  She glanced at the hunter and considered it for a moment before gesturing to him too.

Laduma watched the stranger’s back as the fire crackled next to her, yet the warmth spreading throughout her body wasn’t from the pit.  It was from the elf who smiled at her.

 

Solas didn’t bother with breakfast since the stench of tea leaves all but stole his appetite.

He reviewed a set of reports from his spies - Athras hadn't written back yet - and settled in his chair facing the window.  His tower boasted incredible views of the mountains, yet his mind was too faraway to rejoice in the cool morning breeze.  Athras was his best agent, it would be ridiculous to worry if he had been exposed or not.  Solas would have heard something by now.  None of his old friends were particularly  _ subtle. _

The attendant - what was her name again? - shifted on the balls of her feet while she waited for Solas to order her around.  He told her countless times he preferred isolation in the tower, yet she insisted standing in the corner every morning until he left.  Perhaps if he ordered for her to walk in one direction for a few days straight?  Given her a top secret mission to go to a nearby town for a mundane supply?

Solas wasn’t  _ that  _ callous.  He just ignored her and picked up a quill - gifted to him by the old ambassador of the Inquisition.  Solas kept it in outstanding condition despite the fact Josephine Montilyet likely denounced him long ago.  They were friends once, it meant something to him to keep the gift.

“Ser?” The attendant asked nervously, shifting on the balls of her feet.

“Hm?”

“Do you need anything?”

_ Silence.  Marel.  For my plan to work.  A convenient mix of the three.   _ “Not right now,” he said, echoing words he once heard from someone with a softer voice.  “Perhaps in a bit.”

He picked the first scroll of the pile and loosened the twine with his long fingers.  Solas needed to have a talk with Athras if he was going to continue knotting the yarn so tightly - this time, the spy tied the scroll five times over to ensure no one looked at it on the way to the base camp.   _ Because every thief and enemy is going to get turned off by having to unroll a report that’s so tightly wounded _ , Solas thought as he picked up a small blade out of his drawer.

Honestly, how many knots did it take to keep a secret?

At least it was Athras and not one of the spies that were less….valuable, in a sense.  He was facing real danger, sneaking through the streets like a dirty city elf that’s too poor to take the risk of siding with the People.  Solas could excuse his cautioned spy because he, too, knew the risks of exposure when faced with the most strong-willed, belligerent, irrational enemy they have ever faced.  The woman that would surely go down in history as being the most powerful being that was ever created - even if it was mere happenstance she obtained that power.

Solas let out a long, sharp sigh through his nose as he glanced at the first sentence of the scroll.

_ I’ve been exposed. _

And then the second.

_ Marel Lavellan wishes to see you. _

Well, shit.


	2. You Took My Shot

On their first date, Marel accidentally let Cullen’s fur on fire.

The second date was a little worse.  He arrived on her doorstep right as she was wrestling a deepstalker into the basement.  Sera answered the door, and as a result, Cullen almost got an arrow shot through his eye.  “Sorry!”  Sera shouted, one of her ears still ringing from the deep stalker's guttural cries.  “Thought you were the dealer coming back for a refund.”

“A refund?” Cullen asked, raising his eyebrow.

“For the - nevermind.  Come on in, _Commander_.”

After that, Marel and Cullen decided they should only be friends.  At least until they were sure the world wasn’t ending anytime soon, or that their relationship would be spoiled by any dragon attacks or Qunari invasions.

It was Cullen who eventually found the spy.  He arrived in Kirkwall for another monthly visit, grinning ear to ear as he finally got to walk on solid ground again.  Marel lunged at him when they made eye contact, beaming as she finally got to see one of her friends again.  “It’s been too long,” Cullen laughed as Varric strolled over to greet him.  “Is anyone else going to make it?”

“Hawke is here,” Varric answered, “But she’s always here.”

“Never leaves,” Marel agreed.  “Merrill ties her legs up.”

“Sparkler and Tiny are on their way,” Varric continued, using his fingers to quote the next sentence.  “Since _Master Pavus_ needs a _trusted armed escort_ because he has yet to _pay back_ a _debt_ with, uh, me.”

“Dorian thinks Varric might kill him,” Marel translated flatly.

Cullen couldn’t help but smile.  “I’m glad to see that nothing really changed,” he told the two as they began the trek towards Hightown.  A few of the ship’s travelers followed them, likely heading towards the vast market near Marel’s home.  “Josephine wrote to me before I let Ferelden.  She’s also on her way - Leliana sent word that she will be a while.”

Marel shrugged.  “That’s what I get for telling everyone she should be Divine.”

“She’s doing a great job.”

“Are you talking about raising nugs or leading a religion?” Varric asked with a laugh.

That was when Cullen veered a sudden right, his fingers looping around Marel’s arm.  “I think I need to stretch my legs a little longer,” Cullen explained calmly as Varric rushed to flank him.  It seemed like they were still casually strolling through Kirkwall after a much-needed reunion, yet the three knew the formation by muscle memory or nostalgia.

If someone leaped at them from the shadows, Cullen would be able to shield Marel long enough for a proper barrier to cloak them.  Varric would cover them with Bianca if they needed to make a run for it.

“Varric’s been running from his guard for the last few months,” Marel conversed bitingly as they hurried down a narrow alley towards Darktown.  “I keep telling him they’re supposed to protect him.”

Varric scoffed.  “And Seeker’s been sending her men to you for almost a year and you say no every time!”

Cullen sighed.  “That’s enough, you two.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, however.  It had followed him from the ports of Ferelden to Kirkwall: even as he stepped off the boat, he thought he heard someone push through the queue of passengers to get behind him.  It only started becoming suspicious when he turned to see a skinny elf dodging through people to get close to him.  The elf’s eyes were directly on Marel.

She might have stopped behind his boss months ago, but that didn’t mean she stopped being his friend.  Until Cullen was sure the Inquisitor wasn’t in danger, he couldn’t just lead someone to her doorstep.

Varric’s hands calmly touched Bianca to make sure she was still strapped to him.  “Been practicing?” Cullen commented as they entered Darktown.  Everything appeared to have a layer of orange dust coating it, and Cullen winced at the sudden smell of antiseptic and sweat.  Why did he have to choose _Darktown_ ?  Out of all the shitty places in Kirkwall, why did he choose the one that was filled with actual _shit_?

“I take her out once in awhile.  Not much to shoot these days.”

Their voices began clipping at the end in stress.  Marel said nothing as she itched to take out her staff and freeze anyone that was behind them.  It would be easy - a quick, harsh spell that would trap knees and calves.  Maybe she would just add a bolt of electricity for good measure.  Just to teach someone a lesson - Marel wouldn’t be _too_ violent.

Varric had other ideas.  “You know who might be in Darktown?  Chuckles!”

Marel cringed.  “Give her another nickname, for the love of Andraste.”

Varric grimaced at her.  “Sorry, what I meant to say was Waffles is probably around here somewhere.  She likes trouble.”

“She likes Anders,” Marel corrected flatly.

“Same thing.”

Cullen’s fingers twitched at the handle of his sword - a gift from Marel, made of dragonbone and tempered with her own fire.  He heard the crunching of loose stone from the person tailing them.  No one immediately heads to Darktown after arriving in Kirkwall.  Not unless they were a criminal or looking for a fight.

In this case, it could be both.  Cullen wasn’t picky.

They turned another corner and Marel was all too aware of how much money she had dangling from her belt.  She wrinkled her nose at the toxic smell of deathroot as the three started down a set of stairs leading further into the pits of Kirkwall’s finest institution.  Somewhere in this waste was the Champion of Kirkwall and her blonde, terrorist boyfriend.  But what if they didn’t have time to find their friends?  What if the person tailing them got too cocky and jumped for their throats?

“If only Dagna was here to blow something up.  She’s always good for distractions,” Varric grumbled.  He was now beginning to feel the presence of their tail.  They were good - too good.  If Cullen hadn’t taken that detour, Varric might not have even noticed someone followed them from the docks all the way to Darktown.  “Wait.  You don’t think…?”

“She’s here,” Marel finished.  She didn’t change her expression, but her voice lowered so the natural chatter of Darktown’s citizens would cover their conversation.  “I saw her when we came through the alley.  Let’s just keep walking.”

Cullen faked a smile at waved his hand in the air as if he was adding to the story.  “Who are you _talking_ about?”

“Just watch, Curly.”  Varric nudged him with his elbow and pointed to Marel, adding, “You think we’re allowed to go to Darktown by ourselves?  We always have an armed escort.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s Sera,” Cullen groaned.  He looked around at the hunched-over people before quickly turning back to Varric.  “Oh, Andraste.  It’s Sera, isn’t it?”

They turned a corner and continued walking.  Marel refused to let herself smile until they captured the tail.  It wasn’t that she wasn’t confident that they were about to be saved, but she knew that no one would let her harm the person when they finally captured them.

Within moments, the trio heard a low guffaw and the sound of someone crashing into the tail.

Cullen spun around to see a remarkably calm Pentaghast staring down at a skinny elf.  It was the same boy that slept in the cabin opposite of his while they were on the boat from Ferelden.  Yet that wasn’t the most surprising part of the ordeal: it was that Cassandra, dressed in polished metal, was standing in the filthy surroundings of Darktown.

Sera rounded the corner seconds later with an upset expression.  “You took my shot!” She accused, shoving an arrow back into her quiver as she stomped towards them.  “That’s - that’s not bloody fair!”

“It’s revenge for every time you’ve stolen _my_ shot,” Cassandra replied as she ground her boot into the elf’s throat.  Marel couldn’t pinpoint the age of the kid - younger than her, certainly.  He clawed at Cassandra’s leg and squirmed under the pressure.  “Oh, be quiet, you.  I can do a lot worse.”

“Yeah, she can shove that boot up your -”

“ _Sera_ ,” Cullen sighed.  He, Varric, and Marel walked towards them with their hands gripping their weapons.  Just in case this one had friends.  To Cassandra, Cullen said, “It’s good to see you, Seeker.  I didn’t know you were in Kirkwall.”

Cassandra smiled at him as she put away her sword.  “Varric did not mention me?  I’m staying with a friend of his to help organize the local militia.”

“Officially,” Marel interject, “That’s _officially_ what she’s doing here.  Unofficially, she’s reuniting with her best friends and saving our asses again.  You know, like old times.  Except I’m not being held captive and no one here is an ancient Dalish god.”

“I haven’t arrested you yet,” Cassandra pointed out slyly.  “And you never know, Sera may just surprise us.”

Sera said a choice word under her breath in response.

Their new prisoner coughed under Cassandra’s boot, still squirming.  “Oh, right.”  Marel waved Cassandra away from the prisoner as she bent down.  Her surviving hand immediately grasped the boy’s throat.  “Welcome to Darktown, stranger.  Want a tour?”

“Get off,” the elf whispered as he squirmed.

Ignoring his plea, Marel continued, “You might know me.  I led an army against a monster that started the Blight thousands of years ago and won.  This is Cassandra, oh sorry - Lady Seeker.  Of the Seekers of Truth.  They torture people a lot.”

Cassandra sighed, but didn’t correct her.

“Then, here’s Varric here.  He is in charge of this entire, beautiful city and he has friends that will rip your insides out and make you eat them.  Or is that...Sera?”

“Damn right,” Sera muttered.

Cullen cleared his throat.  Marel pointed over her shoulder at him.  “This is my assistant.”

“Thank you, Marel.”

Marel tightened her hold on the elf’s throat.  “Today is the worst day of your life, because I’m about to tell you some devastating news.  We’re just the beginning of your worries.  So you’re going to tell me, plain and simple, what the hell you’re doing.”  Her fingers twitched on his jugular.  “Or you can just tell me why Solas is sending you after us.”

The elf wheezed from the constriction on his throat but said nothing.  Marel glanced up at Cullen and said, “Do _you_ know why Solas sent a spy on that ship?”

“How do you know he works for Solas?” Cassandra interjected, crossing her arms over her chestplate.

“No Vallaslin,” Marel noted.  Her amputated stump gestured to the spy’s face.  “Elvhen - but not one of Leliana’s, she would have told us.  Could be Qunari, but Bull has one or two contacts still that say otherwise.  Did I mention the fact he’s an elf?  Without Vallaslin?”

Cassandra shrugged.  Marel had a point.

 

It took exactly four hours for the elf to break.  He told Marel everything: starting with the fact his name was Athras and ending with a life story detailing how he became a spy for Solas.

“He saw how I can sneak and he - he wanted to make sure Marel was healthy!” Athras claimed as he wiped tears away with his sleeve.  They knew better than to torture him - at least three people would protest the mere idea of it - so they did something far simpler.  Varric unleashed Merrill on him.

“It’s okay, I know you’re not intentionally harming anyone,” Merrill consoled, patting the spy on the knee.  Marel and Hawke leaned against a wall of Marel’s spare bedroom, equally dumbfounded at the idea of _Merrill_ breaking the spy before they could.  “Did you sail with Cullen on purpose?”

Athras shook his head.  He couldn’t bear to look at Merrill - her disappointed face was too painful.  Hawke knew from experience to just stare at the ground and tell the girl everything.  “I come in and out of Kirkwall all the time,” Athras mumbled.  “I’m supposed to send him an update soon.  What am I supposed to say?”

“The truth,” Merrill affirmed.  And with a glint in her eyes, she added, “Maybe it would be nice if there could be something else in the letter?”

“Like what?”

Merrill patted his knee and said, “Like a nice hello from the last Inquisitor.  That would be nice.  I’m sure he would like hearing from her - since he sent you, after all.”

“Don’t you worry, Athras,” Hawke added behind Merrill.  “We’ll make sure that report gets to him as soon as possible."

**Author's Note:**

> I replaced chapter one with a new version. This work was just a wip that was growing dust, and to save its potential, I posted here (so I would have to force myself to update it....at least once.) It's hopefully going to work out in my favor!


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